


Ghosts in the Making

by dailyapple



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Can you tell I've never tagged anything before?, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Family Dynamics, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus is sad, Multi, No Incest, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-01-05 18:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21213311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dailyapple/pseuds/dailyapple
Summary: “Talking to the dead your whole life… makes it hard to look at the ones you love and not just see ghosts in the making."Timeline alteration. Five can’t complete a mission. Klaus overdoses. Diego gets a call. The others help. Now if they can just talk to each other like a normal family, they might stop the apocalypse five years ahead of schedule.





	1. Holding Onto One Another’s Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all. Okay so although I've been writing for years, this is the first fic I've ever published. It was originally supposed to be just pure whump. Plot kinda ran away from me. No betas so don’t look too hard you’ll see holes. 
> 
> Oh also disclaimer: I've never done drugs or been in a hospital for an extensive amount of time... so. yeah. I'm a lame, overly cautious gal who just wants to write about exciting, dangerous stuff. Excuse my mistakes.
> 
> Big thanks to anyone reading this. You're breathtaking.

No one was surprised when Klaus left. No one was surprised to find his bedroom empty one morning. No one was surprised when nothing was said about the third empty chair at breakfast. No one was surprised to discover Allison missing her favorite blouse and Hargreeves missing his most expensive bottle of scotch the next day. No one was surprised when he never came back. No one was surprised when they easily fell back into a new normal.

  
After all, it was _Klaus_.

  
There was, however, a general air of disbelief among the children. Because it worked. He left. He left the Academy and didn’t need to vanish or die to do it.

  
Then again, it was _Klaus_.

  
The same rules didn’t apply to him. So the rest of the Hargreeve children waited for their turn. Two weeks after their seventeenth birthday, Vanya mentioned in passing that she was leaving. Diego left not far behind. Allison moved next. Only Luther stayed. 

Soon after the Academy disbanded, phone numbers were lost and addresses changed. The siblings got married and hired and kicked out and deployed and pregnant and evicted- but no one talked. No one worried. They had all handled the Umbrella Academy. They could handle normal life. They had their own shit to deal with. And yet, some nights Diego found himself listening to his military surplus police scanner with dread building deep in his gut. Whenever he heard news of another dead junkie found in some ally, his thoughts always drifted to his idiot brother. 

Because it was _ Klaus._

It was Klaus who made them roll their eyes with annoyance and laugh until their sides hurt. It was Klaus who got yelled at for not acting his age (or not acting like a _ man_, not acting like a _ Hargreeve _.) It was Klaus who got punished for being scared. It was Klaus who started drinking at twelve and smoking at thirteen and doing the hard stuff at fourteen. It was Klaus who took Ben’s death the hardest. It was Klaus who everyone dismissed. It was Klaus who they found half-drowned in the bathtub at fifteen, empty syringe discarded on the tile floor. It was Klaus who no one helped beyond picking him up off the carpet. It was Klaus who left home just after their sixteenth birthday. It was Klaus who silently slipped into the night through the fire escape. It was Klaus who Diego worried about the most.

Allison was doing great. Luther was where he belonged. Vanya was- well he wasn’t sure what Vanya was doing. Probably playing the violin. But Klaus? Klaus could be anywhere. He could be a John Doe in a California morgue. He could be shivering behind a New York nightclub. He could be shooting up in a Missouri truck stop bathroom. He could be locked up in some Miami basement. He could be halfway to Nevada, hanging off the arm of a career criminal. 

Diego never really considered that Klaus could be right under his nose until he learned otherwise. One morning, after a rough night of saving lives and then passing out on his couch, Al told him he’d missed a call that night. Something about his brother being at Westview General Hospital. 

And, of course, it was _ Klaus. _

_ \--- _

With his head in a fog, Diego somehow managed to drive his shitty car to the hospital. Even with morning rush traffic, the drive only took 20 minutes._ A 20 minute drive._ _Did Klaus even leave the city?_

He took a look around the grimy waiting room. At seven in the morning, the only people in the lobby were a couple of sleeping drunks, a tired mom holding a vomiting toddler, and some weird old dude staring at him. When Diego raised a scarred eyebrow at him, the man clutched his briefcase and scurried out the ambulance bay doors. Maybe he should have changed out of the leather straps.

He told the nurse at the front desk he was here for his brother. As he said the name _ Klaus Hargreeves, _ his voice sounded oddly far away, even to his own ears. The nurse gave him a sympathetic expression and told him to follow her. She was wearing bright purple Scooby Doo scrubs. Klaus would have liked them. As the nurse, _ Cheryl _ her name tag said, led him down the hall she told him what Al had been told over the phone: Klaus was still unconscious but stable. 

_ Stable _ was not a word one used to describe Klaus Hargreeves. He would have laughed if he didn’t think it would end in tears. 

When Diego walked in, he could only see paleness. A pale body, pale sheets, pale walls- everything was pale except for the dark, matted hair sprawled over the pale pillow. Klaus looked like an emaciated saint with a halo made of dogshit. 

Then he noticed the bruises, the gash on his temple, the swollen eye, the hollow cheeks, and the blue tinge to his lips.

Cheryl placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and calmly explained that Klaus overdosed on a combination of alcohol and heroin last night. They weren’t sure which he got first, the beating or the drugs, but he’d been drinking all night. An elderly gentleman _(bless him) _found him slumped over a dumpster and called the police. Klaus had been revived twice: once in the alley _(thank God for naloxone)_ and once in the ambulance. His vitals later returned to normal. Now that his stomach was pumped_ (just in case) _and his breathing tube removed, he just needed a few last tests_. _However, the broken ribs and bruising would take some time and bedrest to heal. Once he was conscious, the police would come in to ask him a couple questions about the attack.

Diego struggled to pay attention. He couldn’t look at Klaus’s face, couldn’t look at Cheryl’s sympathy, so he stared at his brother’s glowing green heartbeat instead. 

“I know it looks bad, but he’s doing great.” 

Cheryl had a sweet Southern accent, but it didn’t stop a sour taste from developing in his mouth. Her soft words echoed in his head, occasionally colliding with the incessant beeping of the monitors. His head throbbed as if he’d been the one who’d taken a beating. Cheryl checked Klaus’s IV, and Diego told himself it was the needle, not his brother’s thin wrist, that made him look away. 

“Klaus always bounces back quickly. Almost _ inhumanly _ quick. But this time, well, we’re not entirely sure what’s different about this time. Normally he just pops back up. Walks out without us getting the chance to call his contacts. Sometimes before the paramedics even get him here.” 

“He’s been here a lot then?” Diego already knew the answer. He wasn’t sure exactly when he started tasting bile. 

“Well, yes. A couple of times for overdoses, a broken wrist once, alcohol poisoning another-” she must have seen Diego’s nauseated expression because she quickly added, “-he does come to the free clinics a lot! Needle exchanges, testing, you know. That’s actually how lots of us know Klaus.”

The nurse gave him a small smile. Diego knew she intended it to be comforting. _ Was he comforted that the ER nurses knew his brother by name? Not really. Oh God, the city had three other hospitals. Do they all know him too? _She was looking at him for a reply. Not entirely confident in his speaking abilities, he just nodded and took the seat by the bed. 

“Well, I’ll give you some alone time. When he wakes up, or if you plan on leaving, tell one of us before you go, okay?” 

Nodding again, Diego hoped his strained smile said _ thank you. _

_ \--- _

“Oh _no_. You two are going to have to take shifts or something. I’m not dealing with _ two _ nagging brothers all the time. Sheesh.”

Diego’s gaze snapped from the monitors to his brother’s green eyes. His _ open _ green eyes. 

Klaus smiled (_ sadly? _) at him. He still looked like shit, the swollen eye now a deep, painful purple. Diego wanted to tell him how much he missed him, how much he worried. Instead, he barked, “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Klaus coughed into his pillow, turning back to ask, “Like, currently?” 

“You overdosed. They found you in an alley.”

“Yes, yes, which dampened the mood of the night, I will admit.” Klaus looked around, surveying his surroundings, the pale hospital room and his own bruised body, with unfocused eyes. 

“This is serious Klaus.”

“I’m being very serious.” He slurred.

“You could have died, dipshit.”  
“You’re going to have to get used to that.” Klaus must have thought it all incredibly funny. Diego did not. 

Still chuckling, Klaus began peeling the tape back from the IV on his hand. “Will you cut it out-” Diego grabbed his frail, fidgety wrist. As if he had been scalded, Klaus jerked away violently. Diego let go. The beeping in his ear grew faster. 

“Oh, you’re here.” He whispered, as if Diego had been the frightened one.

“Yeah. I’ve _ been _ here. Again, what the hell is wrong with you?” 

Relaxing again, Klaus just smiled. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Why are you here?”

“To get your dumb ass some help.”

“Ah.”

“There’s a rehab facility-”

Klaus broke out into another hysterical fit of laughter, cut off by some slight wheezing. “Where do you think I just came from, Deigo?”

Oh. Diego just noticed. The two hospital bands. _ Some cop he would have been. _ “You’re joking.”

“All the best overdoses happen right after rehab. Everyone knows that.” He waved his hands around aimlessly, “They just have this- this-_ je ne sais quoi _about them, you know?” He fiddled with the monitor on his finger, and Diego swatted his hand away.

“Why were you in rehab if you were just gonna- just gonna-?”

“What, pray tell, was I supposed to do? Tell the judge _ no_? Plus, it’s loads of fun. The most interesting characters are in rehab.” Diego felt ill all over again. It was easier to love his brother when he wasn’t right in front of him. Saying these things. Looking like that. Just hours ago Diego had felt cold and hollow, but now he only felt hot with rage. A familiar pressure grew behind his ribs, begging him to scream, to shout, to throw something.

Diego buried his head into his hands, taking in deep breaths. 

“Listen, Diego-”

“No. No. Just... just stop talking.”

Klaus stopped talking. 

“I’m going to go get your nurse.”

Diego stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the piss yellow tiles. He needed to get out, preferably before he cut something he couldn’t afford to replace. 

Grabbing the door handle, he heard an uncharacteristically soft voice behind him. “Hey... Diego?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you bring me back something from the vending machine?”

He turned and looked at his brother’s face. His lips were spread into a pained smile, eyes wide and poorly feigning innocence. He looked half-dead and dead tired. Call it sibling intuition or just Diego’s own soft spot for the junkie, but he knew Klaus was asking for more than a candy bar. A promise, maybe. 

“Yeah. I’ll bring you back something, bro.” 

On his way out, Diego flagged down a nurse who seemed very unconcerned once he mentioned the name _ Klaus. _ Under the decaying awning of the front entrance, Diego considers his options. 

He could drive to an ATM and take out some cash. Drop Klaus off at a bus station and hope he doesn’t immediately spend it all on drugs. 

Or maybe he’d book Klaus a hotel room for the night. Diego knows he’s probably homeless. _ Couch-surfing _ or whatever they call it. That would be a nice, brotherly thing to do, right? 

He could drop him off in front of the Academy. Tell him to go home. Maybe Luther needs help. He’d love to see that. Luther hated dealing with Klaus. But that would also mean Klaus dealing with Dad. _ No, he’s not _ that _ cruel. _

He could drive Klaus to rehab anyways. He could force him through the doors and tell him to take it seriously this time. _ Take it seriously. That’s rich. _ Is Klaus capable of taking anything seriously? Maybe that’s his hidden power: the inability to come down to Earth.

He could take him home. _ No. He doesn’t have time for this shit. _ Klaus could call someone else. _ Could he? Did he want Klaus to call one of his “friends?” _ Diego was his emergency contact, at least the only one that showed. Maybe out of all their siblings, Klaus could only find Diego's number. Or maybe Klaus just trusted him the most. Maybe he believed in Diego.

_ Shit. _He was going to seriously regret this. 

\---

Despite her best efforts to hide it, Diego could still see the relief on Cheryl’s face when he said he’d be taking Klaus home. She told him Klaus could leave as soon as he was done and then mumbled something about how _ that boy heals faster than anyone I’ve ever seen._

Apparently he brooded outside long enough for them to run the tests they needed. The police were talking to him now. He decided it was best to let them talk to his brother alone, given Diego’s history with the city’s police department. 

Diego went back to the waiting room. The staticky TV played the local afternoon news with closed captions a full five seconds behind the anchors and the magazines were a full month behind schedule, but he had nowhere else to be. He took the seat furthest from everyone else, joints cracking and popping just as much as the shitty waiting room chair did. As Diego pondered the long-term effects of nightly crime-fighting on his twenty-five-year-old body, an unexpected wave of exhaustion pulled him into sleep. He woke up to a bleeding man elbowing him in the side, a baby crying somewhere in the distance, and the newscasters introducing the nightly news. The waiting room had filled up considerably, so he weaved through the crowd toward the vending machines. He searched his pockets for loose change and, after taking a short piss-break, finally made it back to Klaus’s room with two Kit-Kat bars. 

Of course the bed was empty. 

“Shit!”

Diego ran to the bed. He looked under it, yanked the sheets to the ground, and quickly began to panic. There was nothing in the room but a bag of dirty clothes and a disgusting coat thrown over the chair. _ Shit. _

A sudden noise made Diego whirl around. The door to the small bathroom opened. Klaus stepped out, one hand holding up his skin-tight red leather pants while he shimmied into them, the other rubbing a towel into his wet mane. 

“Oh! Hey, Diego!” 

“Hey.”

“I forgot to tell you, there was this one bird, bless her, in rehab, right? Well, she thought she was a vampire. Said meth helped quench her thirst for human blood. She also said she could turn into a bat at will. I thought, could this be a long lost sibling? A Number Eight, if you will. But I never saw it. The bat thing. So. Probably not. But how insane would that have been?”

Klaus walked to the chair and pulled a cropped shirt out of the large plastic bag. It still had blood on the collar, but he put it on anyway. He turned to his brother, eyes lighting up as they fell to the crushed candy in his hand. 

“For _ me _?” 

Diego looked down at the mangled candy, forgetting he had been holding them. He shoved the candy into his brother’s chest with a huff. 

“Ah. _ Guten Appetit. _ ” 

Klaus quickly stuffed his face with the melted chocolate as he pulled on his coat. Diego just stood there for a moment, letting his heartbeat return to normal. He took the opportunity to take a good look at his brother. 

During puberty, Klaus sprouted like a beanstalk. Although the others soon caught up with him in height, he always seemed abnormally stretched out, pulled too thin. He looked like that now, although he’d filled in considerably. It was another jarring reminder that they weren’t kids anymore. This Klaus was almost 10 years older than the Klaus who lived one door down the hall. There was half scrubbed away makeup, like a permanent mask, under his eyes and an overgrown goatee peppering his jaw. His still-wet hair, longer than Dad would have ever allowed, clung to his forehead. He was also buzzing. Constantly. 

“Well, it was really nice seeing you,” Klaus sighed with a buttery smile. He clamped a sweaty palm on Diego’s shoulder and squeezed.

Diego shrugged him off. 

“Put on your shoes. We’re going.”

Klaus sucked chocolate off of his fingers with a disgusting pop. “_We_? And where are _ we _ going?”

“My place.” He grabbed the bag of Klaus’s personals off the chair._ Good God, was that a sequin fanny pack? _

“Oh joy- Hey, no one asked you, asshole.”

“Come again?”

“Not you, Diego, you’re doing fantastic.”

\---

While a med-student argued with Klaus about needing (or not needing) a wheelchair, Cheryl gave Diego a handful of colorful pamphlets._ Coping with Drug Abuse in the Family. Substance Abuse: The Road to Recovery. How to Help a Loved One Struggling with Addiction. Addiction: Shattering the Myths. _ The glossy twenty-somethings on the covers seemed too damn happy, all things considered. She also gave him Klaus’s prescription. _ The irony of it all. _

“Should he seriously be having this?”

“_ I _would recommend ibuprofen and bed rest, but I’m required to give him what the doctor ordered.” She glanced over to Klaus, who was fondling the poor student’s stethoscope. “But you don’t have to fill it.”

Diego crumpled up the blue slip and shoved it into his pocket. Klaus, who had finally agreed to at least take a hospital-grade ice pack from the frustrated man, cheerily waved a tattooed hand at the nurses as the pair walked out into the parking garage. 

“Bye Aaron! Mrs. Ballantyne! Hannah! See you around Cheryl!”

“You’re on first name basis with the nurses. Of course you are.”

“Well, unlike some of us, I’m a people person!” He smiled like an idiot.

With one hand clutching the ice pack to his bruised ribs, Klaus reached out to grab one of Diego’s leather straps.

“I like these. Dominatrix is a good look on you.”

Diego wanted to punch him in the face. Diego wanted to pull him close. Instead, he just kept walking. 

As Diego unlocked his car, Klaus puked up the Kit-Kat bars onto the concrete floor of the parking deck. He stumbled into the back, mumbling something to the empty seat next to him. Sighing, Diego tossed the pamphlets into his glove compartment and threw Klaus’s bag into the back with him. 

Looking at his brother in the rearview mirror, Diego thought about asking him what happened, if he was alright, if he needed anything before they went home. He didn’t.

“We’re getting you a haircut.”

“What, why?”

“You’re not clogging my shower drain with all that shit.” 

Even exposed to the bright overhead light, Klaus’s pupils were blown wide. His eyes danced around, looking for a place to land. Diego briefly white-knuckled the steering wheel and looked away, ignoring a second wave of bile rising in his throat.

“Klaus. Are you high right now?”

Klaus just laughed. “Honestly. I can’t believe you would even ask me that.”

_ I guess you could take that either way. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. First chapter. I can't give a solid update schedule because college is rough but I have a couple of chapters already written. Again, thanks for taking the time to read this!


	2. Second Verse, Same As The First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brothers talk. It gets messy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! So I know this is the first update since October (oops) but things have been weird. But I guess they've been weird for everyone- so if you're reading this: I hope you're doing alright. Anyways, thanks for the patience and the support on the first chapter! Ya girl lives for validation. 
> 
> This chapter was supposed to be longer, but I figured I should upload what I've got now and finish the last bit in another update. Also I can't figure out how I did paragraph indents. The formating on this site is confusing. 
> 
> Hopefully, I can update more frequently in the future! Thanks for reading! <3

Diego regretted cutting Klaus’s hair.

That night, Diego sat Klaus down on an old foam target block and carefully snipped his brother’s tangled curls down one by one. He thought he did a decent job, even left a couple of long ones on the top, but it didn’t make him look any better. It only made his brother’s face look thinner, more fragile. _  
_ After the hair had been swept away, Diego grabbed a pair of old sweatpants and a couple of extra blankets and, without looking at him, told Klaus the futon was all his.

\---

Diego didn’t sleep. He just stared at the ceiling all night and contemplated what the hell he was doing. When the sun rose, he made eggs and listened to Klaus tossing, turning, and grinding his teeth in his sleep.

Klaus finally started snoring peacefully at one in the afternoon.

So, Diego left him a cold fried egg on the stove and slipped out the door with a shopping list scribbled on the back of an old take-out receipt. First stop was the grocer, where he bought more eggs, instant noodles, and- _shit. What does Klaus like? Pizza? He’ll get pizza. _Next was the convenience store where he bought the toiletries he knew Klaus didn’t have in that fanny pack- which was all of them. He then idled in front of a department store for a solid five minutes. Then, remembering Klaus’s love for bright colors, feathers, and copious amounts of leather, Diego decided against embarking on that journey alone.

When Diego got back, hands full of plastic bags and wallet alarmingly light, he walked in on Klaus, wearing Diego’s sweatpants and that same disgusting top, sitting on the top of the couch and blowing smoke towards the cracked window.

“Put it out, Klaus!”

Klaus smiled and attempted to casually fan the smoke out of the air. “Hey, you’re back!”

Diego dropped the bags onto the coffee table and glared at him until Klaus put his joint out on the soil of his off-brand Chucks.

“If Al catches you in here with that shit I’m gonna lose my job. And I just moved in here, man.”

“Who’s Al?”

“My boss. And landlord, technically. He owns the gym.” Diego sorted through the bags and shoved the food into the fridge. He tossed the bag with the remaining stuff on the small coffee table. “That’s for you.”

“You’re too kind.”

With a dismissive wave of the hand, Diego grumpled, “Get dressed, we’re going back out.” Much to his disgust, Klaus simply put on his coat and announced he was perfectly ready to do.

After a short drive consisting of mostly arguing over the radio they wound up at a local thrift store. Cheaper prices meant they could get Klaus more shirts that weren’t stained with his own blood. They must have looked like quite the pair: one with knife holsters strapped to his chest and perpetually furrowed brows, the other with rusty stains on his collar and purple bruises scattering his face. Thankfully, despite a few dirty looks from the lady behind the counter, they left without any problems.

They both climbed back into the car, and as Diego reached for his seat belt he spotted a flash of blue paper in his brother’s hand. “Could you drive me back to the hospital, or a shady pharmacist, or something? I gotta fill this.” Klaus held up the prescription slip, which Diego promptly snatched out of his hand.

“Don’t go through my stuff, bro.”

“It’s technically my stuff. My _name’s_ on it-” Klaus quickly reached for the paper, but Diego just held it further away. Klaus could only watch in horror, eyes practically bulging about his head, as Diego tore the slip up and tossed it out the open car window like pathetic confetti pieces.

“What the hell man, I _need_ that!” He scrambled out of the car to pick up the pieces littered on the ground.

“No you don’t. You’re not putting any more of that shit in your body. Starting today, you’re going cold turkey.” 

“I’m _vegetarian_.” Klaus whines.

“Bullshit,” Diego spat with a roll of the eyes.

“Okay, okay _flexitarian_.” He clambered to his feet and gripped the exposed glass of the car window with both hands. “But- but I’m in _pain_.”

“Take Advil.”

Klaus let out a wheezy laugh.“You’re serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious! You’re going to get clean, you’re going to get a job, you’re going to-!”

“Get a job? That’s hilarious. Who’s going to hire me?” Klaus made a sweeping gesture to his whole body. “What are they gonna say,” he whined and in a nasally voice mocked, “_I see your resume says you can roll a blunt one handed? Well by golly, good sir, when can you start?_”

Diego rolled his eyes but didn’t have a good answer.“We’ll figure it out. Get into the car.”

“God, what’s with all the ‘we’s all of a sudden.”

Diego looked away and struggled to form words. He couldn’t describe the dark pit of worry in his gut that had only grown since seeing his brother’s pale face in that hospital room. Diego was never good at talking about feelings.

“Because you almost died.” Before his brother could say anything stupid he quickly added, “And if you died, Luther would be my only brother left, and I can’t handle that kind of torture.”

Diego looked back to Klaus, who cracked a sly smile at him. “Awh. That’s sweet.”

“Get into the car, Klaus.”

Klaus got into the car.

\---

_Talk about the issue._

_Approach with compassion._

_Set boundaries. _

Normally when anyone tried to approach the subject of drugs, Klaus would dismiss it with a joke or wisecrack. But Diego remembered a time when they were fifteen, Klaus came back from a particularly grueling training session with Dad in a foul mood. He started smoking a joint at the basement table where some of their siblings were enjoying a quiet breakfast. Luther chose that moment to bring up the fact that Klaus _already_ smelled like weed and casually implied that drug use was for the weak. It didn’t go over well. Diego had looked up from his oatmeal, expecting Klaus to quip back something about_ pesky sobriety_. Instead, Klaus threw a glass of orange juice at Luther’s head. He missed, but there was lots of shouting and name calling after that. Diego did not want a repeat of that episode. So Klaus had to be in a good mood.

So, after reviewing Cheryl’s candy-colored pamphlets again, Diego microwaved several small pizzas for the two of them.

Klaus scarfed down the microwaveable pizza, but complained about the sweetness of the sauce and the texture of the dough the entire time. Diego figured his brother might have more refined tastes than he previously thought. He seemed happy enough, however, so between Klaus’s third and fourth slice Diego asked, “so where do you keep the rest of your drugs?”

Klaus looked up, the tip of the pizza drooping down in front of his mouth.

“Places.”

Diego leaned forward. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just find them myself.”

“You know, it would probably be best if I just used the rest. You know, to wean myself off.” He took another bite of pizza, chewing nervously.

“Klaus.”

“I don’t even have a lot on me. It’s barely anything-”

“_Klaus_.”

Klaus looked up. He swallowed and dabbed the corner of his mouth with a paper towel. He slowly looked over to his coat left in a heap on the floor.

Diego walked over to the coat, crouching down to carefully search every pocket and seam. In a pocket he found a wallet, with nothing but a bit of cash, a Subway “10th sub free!” card, and a folded hospital band. Along the inner seam, he found a small, hidden pocket. Inside, there were two dime bags, one containing a small amount of white powder, the other full of a few chalky pills, three joints, and a dented Altoids tin he didn’t even want to open.

“This is everything?”

“I don’t exactly buy in bulk.” He leaned back onto the futon, still chewing carefully. “You can keep the cash.”

Diego stood up, staring down at the items in his hand. He closed his eyes and imagined shouting at him, telling him exactly how he feels. Klaus figited in the silence. “Diego-”

“No. Just…” His fist clenched at his side and turned with brows furrowed, but when he looked back to his brother there was that sad, guilty expression again. He could only sigh. “I’m going to get rid of these. Don’t leave.”

He marched himself in the bathroom, locking the door behind him. _What do you even do with drugs? _He vaguely remembered something about kitty litter, but he hated the idea of leaving the building with this shit in his possession. Flushing it all seemed like a good idea, but then a terrifying image came to mind of being discovered with a clogged toilet overflowing with dirty water and heroine. _Fuck no. _Out of options, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed one of the only people left in this world he didn’t want to strangle.

“Hey, Eudora.”

\---

Eudora agreed to drop by the gym after her shift. Diego tried to explain the situation over the phone the best he could, but wasn’t sure he could really prepare anyone for Klaus. As he walked Eudora over to where his brother was sitting, he began internally panicking over how he’d introduce them. But he didn’t need to, because Klaus spoke first.

“Officer Patch!”

Eudora didn’t look surprised at all, much to Diego’s concern. “It’s actually _Detective_ Patch now.”

“Oh, congrats! Girl power and all that.”

She gave Klaus a once-over before smiling. “Thanks.”

Diego cleared his throat and tried his best to remain calm and collected. He handed her everything except for the wallet. The coat, along with his stained shirt, had been stuffed into a trash bag and tossed out hours ago. Klaus could keep his Subway rewards, but the coat had to go.

Eudora placed the drugs in a baggie, zipping them up tight inside her leather bag. She informed the brothers that she would have them properly disposed of. Klaus gave her a frail smile and waved her goodbye. Diego managed to lead her back out calmly, but turned on her as soon as the door had shut behind him.

“How do you two know each other?”

“Diego, come on, you’re smart.” Diego just stared at her, so she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I picked him up a couple years ago.”

“For what.”

“Ask him.”

“I’m asking _you_.”

She looked over her shoulder to the closed door. “Soliciting.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. But he’s your brother and he clearly has a problem. And I knew his record would make things messy, so I told him I was feeling nice and let him off with a warning.”

“A record?”

“Like you don’t have one.”

“No- Just- What’s on his record?”

“He’s right inside. _You_ ask him.”

Diego glanced toward the door.

Eudora’s face softened, and she gently placed a hand on Diego’s shoulder. “Listen, you two need to talk. And I mean _actually_ talk. I know your family is... _complicated_. But this might be your chance to uncomplicate it a little bit. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.”  
“Alright, well. I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks, Eudora.”

She walked down the hallway with a tired sigh. “It’s Patch, Diego.”

“Whatever you say.”

He tried not to think too long about what Klaus being his brother had to do with it.

**\---**

Diego tried to get better at talking. It was never an encouraged skill in a Hargreeve, unless you count Allison. So that night as they picked over instant noodles, Diego tried to find a harmless topic to discuss.

“So. Why the tattoos?” It was a genuine question. Diego didn’t understand why anyone would willingly allow someone to jab needles into you over and over.

“I wanted the full alphabet on my chest, but I didn’t have enough money. I’m a human ouija board,” Klaus shot him sarcastic jazz hands. “Get it? Like-” He glances away. “Oh shut up, it’s funny.”

And just like that, Diego was angry again.

“But not so much anymore, right? With all that shit you put in your body.” _Nice one, Diego. _

Klaus glanced over to an empty corner of the room.“...Right.”

“Man, what the fuck are you looking at?”

Klaus had always done that, twitched and muttered and flinched at things unseen. _That’s why I’m angry_, he decided,_ it’s the twitching_. It drives him insane, puts him on edge.

He exchanges another glance with the empty corner. “You’ll just yell at me.”

“Just tell me. And don’t say-”

They both say _it’s Ben _at the same time. It would have been funny if it hadn’t made Diego so damn furious.

“No, _no_. You can’t see Ben unless you’re sober. I know how it works.”

“Ben is different, we don’t know why-”

“You’re in denial. You’re imagining him. All that shit’s poisoning your brain-”

“I’m not! He’s real. If I was imagining him I wouldn’t have made him such an asshole. Sorry, Ben.” He says the last bit to the empty air, and Diego can’t help but stand up at that, retreating to the other side of the room. Suddenly, he remembered why talking was always so hard. He pressed his palms against the fridge with his head bowed, trying to calm his breathing.

Klaus always seemed so in tune with the siblings’ emotions, more than Diego could have ever hoped to be. But sometimes, he says and does things that just hurt- and Diego has never been good at dealing with hurt. It makes no sense. Klaus knew when to sneak into Ben’s room to comfort him. He knew when to cheer Vayna up. He knew when to give everyone a big laugh. Klaus must not realize he hurt him. If he knew, he wouldn’t be saying those things.

_Talk. _

Diego nearly whispers, “You know it hurts, right?”

“What does?” _When you’re too high to hold a conversation. When you disappear. When you overdose down the hall. When you nearly kill yourself. When you talk about our dead brother. When you make me mad. When you make it hard to love you._

“When you talk about Ben.”

Klaus just stared.

“When Ben d-died, do you remember? That week, we kept asking you to reach him. Do you remember what you said?” Klaus just kept staring, so Diego continued. “You said you couldn’t. So he must not be d-dead, and Dad must be lying to us. Do you remember that?”

He gave the slightest nod.

“And we believed you. I don’t know why we did. We never b-believed you, because you’re always full of such shit, but this was _important_. We- We wanted to believe you, Klaus. But then you disappeared and got trashed again. And when you came back we realized that you were just- just- a junkie.” Klaus looked down, away from both Diego and the empty corner of the room. “And we all just stopped talking about him. Now you’re saying you can _see_ him? When you still have shit all in your system? It hurts.”

“You don’t understand.”

Diego punched the fridge. “Then make me understand!”

Klaus jumped. Diego ignored the pain blooming across his knuckles.

“I couldn’t see him. I wasn’t lying about that.” Klaus let out an incredulous laugh. “And I was sober. Honest. But then, a couple months later, after I left, I could. I don’t know why, but I see him now and he won’t leave me alone. I’m not lying, Diego. Scout’s honor.”

They just regard each other for a moment. Klaus picking at his hands, Diego with his own on his hips. He considered the possibility that Klaus was telling the truth. Klaus can talk to Ben. Ben the ghost.

“What is he saying now?”

“That you act stupid when you’re mad.”

Diego chuckled, and hesitantly walked back over to sit across from Klaus. He relaxed but still avoided looking towards the empty corner in question.

“I think it has to do with our powers. But he thinks it’s because he’s smarter than all the other ghosts.” Diego can’t help but laugh at that. It helps when Diego ignores the way Klaus’s leg shakes. 

“So why didn’t he show himself then? Right after?”

Klaus shrugs. “He said it took him awhile to figure out how to manifest, and by then I was on the streets and he didn’t want to “traumatize” me any more. But then he realized I needed someone to keep me out of trouble.”

“And does he?”

“He tries his best. I’m difficult.”

“Big surprise there.”

Both brothers smiled at the shared joke, but Klaus’s smile looked frail. Diego figured that was likely due to the bruises. Diego rubbed his hands over his face with a heavy sigh. It’s been a long day.

“Ya know, I was worried back there, in the hospital, for a bit,” Klaus whispered.

“Yeah? How so?” The sudden change in conversation threw him for a second, and he was unable to predict Klaus’s train of thought.

“You didn’t come back right away. ” Diego didn’t know what to say; thoughts weighed down his tongue. Klaus saw Diego’s hesitation and quickly filled up the space. “I mean, it’s fine! I know I’m not exactly the easiest to deal with. You still don’t have to deal with me. I’m not your responsibility. I wouldn’t blame you if you just wanted to-”

“Nah.” Diego interrupted him, “You’ve always been my responsibility, little bro. Now I’m just… actually taking care of what I should have before.”

Diego got up to find his knives, desperately needing to do something with his hands. Behind him, he heard Klaus mumble something like _same age_, but he ignored it. It never really mattered that they were all the exact same age, no one treated each other as equals.

That was probably the problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would never fridge Eudora. rip to the writers but I'm different.


End file.
